54 pages • 1 hour read
Sei ShōnagonA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
When Shonagon writes, at the end of The Pillow Book, that “all moonlight is moving, wherever it may be,” she distills a major theme of her text (254). Whenever considering fabrics, scenes in nature, or scenes from her own life, Shonagon deliberately notes the quality of light (directly connected to the time of day) in order to convey a clear image of the special effect light can have on a place.
“Walking at dusk or dawn” is one of the most moving experiences for Shonagon (120). Perhaps it is the power of light that creates illusions; often, it is the proximity of light to the night that also creates intrigue. Much of The Pillow Book concerns spectacle, like grand festivals celebrating Buddhist milestones or elevating the Emperor and Empress. Light can contribute to spectacle.
The nighttime, too, is a greatly anticipated time. Dawn and dusk are times of great importance and mystery for lovers. While Shonagon often thinks of and describes scenes in nature before or after the night, she also frames the lovers she frequently describes as bathed in moonlight, or dawn light, to add texture and romance to the scene. Light, then, is the vehicle by which Shonagon can create a mood for her scenes.
Throughout The Pillow Book, Shonagon frequently describes her expectations for the quality, color, and pattern of garments. Part of the power of a scene can come from gentlewomen sitting “with [their] cherry-blossom combination Chinese jackets worn draped loosely back from the shoulders,” setting a scene of celebration (17). Often, clothing connects the natural world (and the changing of the seasons) to human rituals.
The Pillow Book frequently provides Shonagon with a space in which to complain about standard practices of dressing. “Simple” robes can ruin her own presence in court (71). But the arrival of simply or unattractively dressed lower-ranking people at a moment of celebration or worship can dampen the entire mood for Shonagon. She wishes that she could remove those who are not dressed well from scenes that seem otherwise perfectly composed. Clothing seems to allow everyday court scenes to become special because of the level of taste achieved by everyone around.
Screens protect women from men, insiders from outsiders, lovers from callers. For Shonagon, and for everyone in a Heian period court she describes, screens are a familiar piece of furniture intended to sustain privacy. At the same time, across Shonagon’s text, individuals look around and beyond screens in order to see those about whom they are curious. Indeed, evening visits from men to women are only one moment in which one party desperately wants to look beyond the screen to see the beauty, or mystery, that lies beyond.
This feeling of exclusivity is intended to maintain privacy. Though Shonagon dislikes mixing with the lower-status pilgrims when she visits shrines for worship, when she enters “the inner sanctum beyond the lattice screen” she can feel reverence again, a “freshly kindled faith” (121). The protection of a screen can reinforce social boundaries and create privileged spaces by creating order, however artificial.
It is easy to think of The Pillow Book as a text created behind a screen only to be, inevitably, released into the open. Though Shonagon insists that she never intended for other eyes to see her writing in it, the common practice of peeking behind barriers suggests that any private writing is intended to be unfurled and made public within her society.